The Opposite of the Fear of Falling

The Opposite of the Fear of Falling

Memories like sparkling tethers
bind me to my boyhood home
my first date with each wife
my car parked in the west lot

With the merest scent of cut grass
I’m tugged back to the side yard
playing catch with my young father
as twilight turns trees to shadow

But I feel these tethers
growing dim and fraying
no longer grounding
me to my identity

It’s the opposite of the fear of falling
I’m afraid of floating— of fading away


(For Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt and LP’s Visual Poetry Prompt, almost.)

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
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12 Responses to The Opposite of the Fear of Falling

  1. … my first date with each wife?

    Liked by 2 people

  2. ivor20 says:

    The fear of fading and floating away are my lakeside shadows ..

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lisa Tomey says:

    With the merest scent of cut grass… isn’t it something how scents affect our memory.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. You express this fear…beautifully!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I think about that too..I wonder if my last poem will be a high note or a low one:)

    Liked by 1 person

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